Bittersweet Betrayal
by Burning Snowflake
Summary: Betraying the one you care about most can't be the sweetest thing in the world...or can it? In the midst of the war, Ron and Hermione make some painful choices that put the Trio's friendship in the biggest danger yet.
1. Ghostly Convictions

_Disclaimer.Well, let's just be logic here, shall we? We all know J.K.Rowling owns it all, how else could she have become richer than the Queen, right? Now just imagine her EVER coming to this site..she'd immediately see a summary to an M rated slash fic..sorry to all you slash fans out there...but I'm betting she'd have a heart attack. So we're kinda assuming I'm not her. Cause I'm here at all. ))))_

_Summary."Still somebody loses cause there's no way to turn around"..Having to betray the person you care about more than your own life, even to be with the one you love, can tear anyone's soul into pieces._

_Pairing.Well, considering I'm the author, it's just stupid to ask. Ron and Hermione of course! I'm one of the most faithful RWHG shippers_!

_A/N.OK, this is my FIRST attempt at English-language fanfiction, andEnglish ain't my first language. I mean, I don't even live in an English-speaking country! So puhleeeeeeease be gentle when you REVIEW! Cure my writer's inferiority complex, I beg of you)))_

_Rating._**T**,_ but mostly to be safe and cause of swear words. But hey, who knows where the story line will take me wink_

_Genre.Angst/Romance._

The moon shone brightly at the Hogwarts grounds. The silvery path gleamed in the shining surface of the pond, so its still waters seemed a giant Pensieve, where memories of dozens of generations of students stirred together to make the place seem more magic than it already was.

But the castle that gloomily overlooked the shining pond and silent Forest was no longer a place of study and laughter as it had been merely six months before. No, after Albus Dumbledore's tragic death, Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry ceased to exist. Even those who wished to continue studying magic never came back to these lonesome hills. The rest of the teaching staff was forced to leave. Most of Hogwarts' former students continued their education either in other British magic schools or in different Muggle educational institutions.

However, the castle was not at all abandoned. It had become a place of studies quite different to those formerly taught here. The name of the school situated in the Hogwarts castle was the British Magic War Academy.

True, those who wished to continue studying magic never returned to their old school. Those who wished to fight Voldemort and the Death Eaters, did.

The Academy had, of course, existed long before Hogwarts school stopped its existence. HOwever, the state of an all-out war, declared by the Minister of Magic after Dumbledore's death, had made it possible for the Academy to take on much younger students than it used to. Before the war, the age of admittance had been 19. Now, disregarding heated debates within and outside the Ministry, the plank had been lowered to 16.

The Wizarding Army had been mobilized once again, as it had been once, a long time ago, at the time of Voldemorts first steps into power. Now the time had come for people to remember the ranks of the Army, and those who had been сalled Aurors suddenly became Coronels, Generals and Captains. The names of the ranks themselves reminded everyone of the war state and caused a massive fear attack in the Wizarding community. As for the War Academy, its students started it as Cadets and were supposed to graduate as Lieutenants.

Despite all efforts of concerned parents to keep their children away from anything remotely connected to weapons, battles or Voldemort, for that matter, the Academy's first year of the new age plank proved, that many Hogwarts' 6 and 7 years had signed up to join the Army. Among them were, of course, the golden trio - Harry Potter, ROn Weasley and Hermione Granger - most of their fellow Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, some Hufflepuffs and, amazingly enough, even a couple of Slytherins.

Of course, the new school barely resembled good old Hogwarts, home to everyone, a place of warm memories. Now it was a military school if there ever was one.

Houses were now replaced by Divisions, and former house-mates were often in different Divisions as there were 8 of them. Old school uniforms with house crests had changed into dark-blue military uniforms, same for young men and girls of all Divisions, except girls wore knee-high navy skirts instead of pants. Dormitories now contained not four-poster, but plain beds with dark covers, and everything not connected with studies, such as Dean's football poster, had been removed. The Great Hall had never looked gloomier, its grey walls now bare and no familiar faces at the Staff Table. Behavior rules had gotten much more strict, and cadets were to salute their professors in the halls, speak up only if they were commanded to do so and there was definetely no roaming around in the halls or at the grounds at night.

One thing that had stayed behind as a reminder of the schools' democratic past was that there was no separate Girls division, so classes were combined for boys and girls. However girls now lived and ate separately. Visits in the Common Rooms were allowed though, but strictly within hours. The trips to Hogsmeade had, naturally, been cancelled. All in all, Hogwarts Castle had changed drastically, and if anyone knew just how much, it was the all-time rule-breakers, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

Ever since the enlisting in the Academy their thoughts were occupied with the upcoming battle with Voldemort, which was surely to come any time soon. They spent their time discussing Horcruxes, Death Eaters and the weapons they were currently studiyng. Each put an extra effort in studies, in theory as in practice. And there was a LOT of practice. Every morning they would wake up and head to the Quidditch field (only to be reminded that there would be no more Quidditch, of course), and run their laps along with the other boy members of their Division. Girls didn't have as many practical lessons, they took a Mediwizarding course instead. After the morning work-out, they would head to breakfast, after which a long day of War training began. As useful and developing these studies may have been, one thing was ruining their life for them, and that thing was the absence of their best friend, Hermione Granger.

That is, she had been their best friend in sixth year. Now she meant a thousand times more for both.

For Harry, she was the girl who he had seeked comfort in after his breakup with Ginny, she was what some would call his girlfriend, but no one would ever hear those words escape Harry's mouth. She was the one girl, who he could be with without worrying that the Death Eaters would come after her just because she was his girlfriend. She already was his friend, and if what happened over the summer changed a lot between the both of them, it changed nothing for Harry's enemies. That's why Hermione was the only person he turned to when his heart was still aching after his breakup with Ginny. After that Harry had become absolutely numb in his emotions. He reached out to Hermione, and she didn't reject him. He sometimes wondered if it had been out of pity that Hermione hadn't pushed him away, but he tried not to think about it, for sometimes he felt like deep down he knew the answer and didn't want to face it.

For Ron, Hermione had long before stopped being just a friend. But over the summer her status had once again changed drastically. The red-head often thought about how this one person meant so many things for him at once. Best mate. Childhood memory. His best friend's girl. The love of his life.

Something had gone horribly wrong for him, and Ron felt it every single time he looked at Hermione and was forced to look away before she could have a chance to notice the expression in his eyes. He loved her and he hated himself for it. He hated her for it. He just didn't know what to do, and in the same time he knew there was nothing he could do. He had felt this way for quite a long time now. He constantly felt it was his fault that nothing had worked out for the two of them. If only he hadn't been such a prat in 6 year, if only he hadn't wasted an entire fucking year trying to make Hermione jealous...

Ron had never felt so miserable and angry as when she came to their Common Room in the evenings to visit Harry, because she made him want to hate his best friend. He wanted these feelings to stop, but he could do nothing when he saw Harry hold her hand or touch her cheek. He wanted to take her in his arms and have her all to himself, because he wanted her and needed her more than anything in the world. These feelings made him sick, because every time his body and soul ached for her comfort, he felt like he was betraying Harry and Hermione and himself.

The evening had started out as always. It was evening practice at the Quidditch field, and the male half of Division #5 were running their laps, huffs of warm exhaled air visible in the cold atmosphere. Panting, Harry, Ron and Seamus finished their 7th lap, which was to be followed by a series of push-ups. They were hoping to sneak a few minutes of rest before starting their next exercise, but there was no fooling Gen. Sawyer, who was in charge of the Academy's General Physical Development course. So the boys had no choice but follow his orders and immediately dropped to the ground.

-Ya know,-Ron exhaled after about ten push-ups, - I'm starting to doubt my success in this whole War training business. I mean, it's not bloody likely I'll ever live up to whatever Iron man standart that guy's got planned out for us...

-Weasley! No talking!

Ron went silent, but Harry gave him a friendly grin. It wasn't nessecarily true that Ron was having major difficulties in training. Sure, at every practice most felt that they had just been kicked long and hard, because every time the General would give them more difficult tasks. But Ron wasn't at all behind in training, he and Harry, as well as the others, did their best every single time and their work was gradually paying off. Their arms and legs had grown much stronger, and sometimes Harry felt that Ron had gotten even a bit taller (if that was even possible). But then again, Ron's ever-present inferiority complex hadn't dissapeared. He would still think he was lousy in training, not strong or fast enough. Harry always wondered what it would take for his friend to feel good about himself, when already half the female population of the Academy would turn their heads whenever Ron passed them in the hall. But then again, this was Ron and there was no knowing what really was on his mind.

Completely wiped out after training, the boys headed for the showers and after that, to the Great Hall. As Harry and Ron entered, both noticed that Hermione was absent from her usual place at the girls' table.

-Where do you think she's gone to?-asked Harry, frowning. Ron shrugged, sitting down at the table.

-Maybe she's in the library, studying as always, you know...doing her usual Hermione business,-he suggested, loosening the tie on his uniform. Harry shook his head and began eating. Ron, meanwhile, looked over at the spot where Hermione usually sat, and the familiar feeling of loneliness twitched inside of him.

The ink from her quill dripped down on the parchment, staining the essay entitled "Complex analysis of the bezoar's antidote functions". The draft sheets, already filled with her neat hand-writing, were strewn all over the table, ruffling in the occasional wind coming from the nearby window. The book she had been referring to while writing her essay served as a pillow.

Hermione Granger was asleep.

It wasn't the kind of blissful slumber that Ron Weasley would occasionally sucumb to at the History of Magic lessons. It wasn't the kind of dreamless sleep you would fall into after drinking a special potion. It was the nervous, jerky state of questionable rest that Hermione fell into when her brain was ready to blow (yes, that happened even to her sometimes). She fell into a strange sort of condition, when random images would come to mind, attempting to take on a dream-like form, but never quite turn into full-scale dreams. This wouldn't normally be called rest, but for Hermione's brain it was. Considering just how over-worked, under-slept and extremely neurotic she had gotten that particular year.

She would work herself numb to get some sort of ghostly conviction that she was doing something, ANYTHING to help the cause of those dying every day in bloody encounters with Voldemort's followers. She would study and read even more than usual and, outraged at the too-small amount of physical activities they were supposed to do, she would go to the Quidditch field every evening just before hours to run laps and practice War charms away from others, to be safe. She would do this, then come back and read some more, and at last crawl into bed, but no peace awaited her.

All kinds of freakish dreams would keep her turning, kicking at the covers and eventually waking up in cold sweat. Sometimes there would be nightmares, and she would see Harry, his face covered in blood, strewn on a stone floor, and Death Eaters all over the place, and screams of pain from everywhere around. Sometimes she would see sweet nostalgic things, and it was hard to tell, which was worse - this or the nightmares. She would see worry-free days of their previous years at Hogwarts, all kinds of silly things that seemed important then, she would see Sirius, and Professor Dumbledore, and all the people who had died since then. She would see them happy, and smiling, she would see herself and Ron fighting over some stupid little thing, and Harry, not knowing that his fate was already decided for him, and he had no choice in his life but to be murdered or become a murderer.

After these dreams Hermione would wake up and find a damp pillow and her own cheeks covered in tears.

She had stopped trying to understand herself a while back, as she felt if she tried analyzing the knot of feelings inside of her, she would stumble upon something she didn't necessarily want to find out. However she couldn't ignore the fact that she had become a nervous wreck, and not even 10 laps around the Quidditch field could make that go away.

That was exactly why her body and mind were so tired she fell asleep in the middle of writing her essay. Her rest didn't last long though. Soon she jerked abruptly, realised she had dozed off and immediately felt guilty. Hermione raised her head quickly, turned to the window and nearly gave a loud yelp of surprise when she saw that she wash't alone in the far corner of the library, and there in fact was someone beside her, perched on the windowsill, silent and giving her a very intense stare. But she didn't yell. Hermione merely gasped and said in a loud whisper, clutching at the front of her uniform:

-What do you think you're doing, scaring me like that, Ron!

_Ok. Now hit that little button and REVIEW, make my day!_


	2. Never to return

_A/N_

_Thank you SO much to those who reviewed! And sorry ot took so long to update, I have an archaeology exam coming up, not a pretty thing, I can tell you THAT.. Anyway, on with the story! I've decided to go a little more angst. Hope you don't mind._

After dinner Ron and Harry headed for their Division's Common Room. There was much chattering and the atmosphere was almost like in the good old days at Hogwarts : Seamus and Dean were having a play-fight in the corner, Justin was convincing Colin that the Canary Cream he was offering the boy was completely harmless…there were a few minutes when Harry and Ron could've been tricked into thinking that they had gone back in time. The sudden realisation that the past was no more, that the laughter of their fellow students would never be as innocent, was all the more painful when the navy blue of the uniforms had its effect on their momentarily tricked minds.

No, this definetely wasn't Hogwarts. Not when half the present in the Common Room had already mastered the Avada Kedavra (strictly for defence purposes, naturally), not when the play-fighting Dean and Seamus were already capable of killing with their bare hands. It was sometimes scary to think what many of the 17-year-old boys had been taught to do in the past few months. Harry and Ron never told Hermione just what kinds of curses they had mastered at their Practical lessons, or what kinds of Muggle fighting Gen.Sawyer was teaching them. They had discussed it once and figured Hermione would "just simply FREAK" if she found out her friends were being trained to become, well, murderers, to put it bluntly. They hadn't even thought, when entering the War Academy, that they would be intrusted with that kind of knowledge so soon. Then they had started to figure out that the Ministry and Academy officials were probably starting to doubt that there would be enough time before the Final Battle for the Cadets to even complete the full course…So, when they thought about it, Ron and Harry came to the conclusion that they should spare Hermione of knowing that her best friend and boyfriend had very little odds of living to their 20s. Everything around them said – you will not be spared. Talk about depressing.

Ron had realized that it was best not to think about such matters at all and focus on training and Horcrux research. He didn't really understand why the hell they were doing the latter when there was no way of leaving Academy grounds and going anywhere to look for the scattered pieces of Voldemort's black soul. But Harry had been annoyingly insistent on the matter, so Ron would force himself to visit the library every time he could, he would go and look…and look and look and look. Hermione was doing the same, but there was nothing strange about that. He, on the other hand, was having doubts about remaining sane for a long time ahead. And it wasn't just the Horcruxes. Heck, it wasn't even the whole knowing-he-was-capable-of-killing thing either. He knew perfectly well what it was. He would shove the thought of it away to the back of his mind…

…along with all the other thoughts of Hermione Granger that made his life a living hell. It wasn't HER, no, SHE was probably the reason he was still as sane as ever. What made him fear for his sanity was that the thoughts of her that nagged him every minute she wasn't around and every second she WAS around, but with Harry. At times everything would tumble down at him, and Ron would feel as if he was the most miserable man in the world. Thoughts of death and pain and unfound Horcruxes came to mind, along with feelings of self-loathing and anger and sadness. At times he would feel sudden hate-attacks, and then he would have no choice but to go to an abandoned classroom, conjure up a pounding mat, the kind they trained with, and beat it so hard that if the mat was a person it would have probably bled to death ten times before Ron was finished with it. It scared him to think that these fits often came exactly when they were all sitting in the Common Room and Hermione would be stroking Harry's hair or Harry would have his arm around Hermione. But it scared him even more, when he thought that all it took for his raging madness to go away was for Harry to suddenly take off somewhere and leave Ron and Hermione together, as it had happened a few times. Ron would immediately feel calm and sane and almost happy, when Hermione sat there and looked at him and talked to him… It didn't seem normal, for her to have that kind of power over him. He didn't know if he liked her having that power. He knew for sure, though, that he didn't like the fits of angst he would suddenly get, and he was afraid that one day it would come when he had a weapon in hand…and Merlin knows what he'd be capable of in such a state.

But that evening the one thing that was bothering him was the absence of Hermione. Who knew what was better, of course, having her sitting there in Harry's arms or not sitting there at all, but Ron didn't really care at that moment – he wanted to see his best friend, that was all that mattered. Merlin knows they hadn't been seeing much of one another lately. The thought of going to look for her instantly made him feel better, so he made a beeline for the portrait hole and was about to walk through when he remembered. Harry. Of course, he had to go with Harry, didn't he? He scanned the room for his black-haired friend and saw him sitting in a chair, staring at the fire in the fireplace. His eyes were glassy, flames flickered in them. His shoulders were slightly slunched, as he leaned his elbows against his knees. Something odd moved inside of Ron, and he wanted to kick himself for constantly feeling sorry for himself, when his best friend was probably feeling ten times the pain he was. It was Harry's responsibility to kill Voldemort in the end…Ron couldn't even imagine what that must be like. To know you were destined to become a murderer…or be killed yourself. How could he have been so selfish as to even think of denying Harry the one thing that obviously made his life a bit better and happier? Didn't Harry need the light and comfort and content Hermione brought him, ten times, a hundred times more than Ron did? He felt like such a sodding idiot for not bothering to think about this before. Harry deserves to have Hermione in his life, Merlin knows he doesn't have much. What kind of a friend WAS Ron if he ever got angry and hateful for it? Feelings of guilt panged in his chest.

He walked away from the portrait and approached Harry's chair. The boy didn't move, lost in his own thoughts.

-Mate, let's go look for Hermione. Judging by the looks of you, that girl's definetely what you need right now,-said Ron softly, trying to make his voice strain-free. Harry cracked a smile and answered wearily, getting up from the chair:

-Don't let Hermione catch you saying that, Weasley. She'll go into one of her feministic fits…Nobody owns her, remember?

Ron smiled at the thought. They walked out of the Common Room and started down the corridor, speaking softly in the abandoned hallway. When they rounded a corner, they nearly ran into Coronel Heathway.

Heathway was one of the most famous Aurors there were, having participated in innumerable battles against Death-Eaters. He was even taller than Ron, and his mere appearance had a most frightening effect, not only on Cadets, but even on some of his superiors. Heathway had a scar coming across his cheek and a steel look in his searing black eyes. His raven hair had a slight touch of grey. He always spoke in short frases, capturing the essence of what he was going to say. Running into him in the corridors usually made everyone nervous, to say the least.

Ron and Harry immediately saluted the Coronel and prayed to Merlin that their uniforms were in order. It appeared so, because the Coronel simply gave them one stern look after turning to Harry.

-Potter, General Mayers needs to see you in his office. Immediately.

-Yes, sir,-Harry instantly replied and started after the Coronel. Ron was still standing straight with his arms at his sides as he watched his friend turn quickly to face him and give him an apologizing shrug. Harry then turnen and followed in Heathway's quick steps. Ron stopped to ponder what the General might have needed Harry for, but then figured…well, this WAS The-Boy-Who-Lived, and hell, there was always something extraordinary to do with him. At least now finding Hermione on his own seemed a perfectly natural thing to do.

Ron's mind quickly turned to his original target, and that was finding Hermione. He continued down the corridor towards the library, silently hoping she was there and not as busy as not to have time to speak with him. He didn't even remember the last time they got a chance to talk when Harry wasn't around and her attention wasn't entirely on him. Hermione was his best friend, for Merlin's sake, and, while he realised he had no right to denie those two the comfort they obviously brought each other, it sometimes made Ron angry to think her relationship with Harry had to affect their friendship. So, as he entered the library and scanned the book-shelves and tables, he prayed that tonight he could get the chance to finally see her like in the good old days. "Yeah, fucking play-pretend that nothing's changed",-thought Ron grimly, walking past the endless rows of bookcases and finaly stopping abruptly when he spotted Hermione, at the farther table by the window, her head on the table and sound asleep.

Ron's steps slowed down as he walked over to her table and turned to lean against the window-pane. He stood there, studying her, all previous thoughts vanishing from his head. This was one of the rare times he could watch her freely and not be afraid of catching her glance. His gaze traveled over the familiar features and slowly softened as he took in every inch of her face and folded arms. Hell, she was beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful most people see at hearing that word. No, there was something about her that made even her flaws seem perfect. The way her hair hadn't been quite tamed. The few freckles dotting her nose. Ron knew most would never account Hermione as beautiful. Some thought her shortish, others said her hips were wider than the beauty standart…What the fuck do they know, Ron often thought angrily when hearing girls gossiping about her in the hallways. But there was a part of him that loved her even more, because of the quiet beauty only he, Ron, saw in her, because he felt there was something about her not even Harry could admire. That thought was whirling in his mind, as his gaze travelled from her closed eyes to her cheeks down to her slightly open lips. She suddenly frowned and stirred, letting out a soft sigh, then turned to her other side. Ron wondered if she could feel being watched, even being asleep. He let himself take in the sight of her exposed neck and felt his face growing slightly hotter. I'm a bastard, he suddenly thought, staring at her like this. She's all Harry's, his to look at and kiss and desire…isn't she?

Hermione suddenly woke with a jerk, and Ron watched her raise her head, sit still for a moment and then turn in his direction, jumping at seeing him. He could tell he had startled her, but all she said was:

- What do you think you're doing, scaring me like that, Ron!

He replied nothing for a moment and just grinned at her, before getting a grip and starting to ramble on about something to do with finding her and Harry and the Coronel…Hermione was half-trying to understand what he was saying, but another part of her simply wanted to watch him talk.

He had changed. And it hurt Hermione to feel that she got to see him so rarely these days she could even notice these changes. The way he spoke and moved his arms had gotten slightly more mature, he frowned more often, as if contemplating something, but this was still Ron Weasley, the same Ron she knew and…knew. It was weird to think that sitting with him, alone, like this, just plain talking, had become an exotic matter for them. And it was only one of many weird thoughts she had began to have about Ron Weasley.

Hermione Granger was a smart witch. All right, she was a very smart witch. That's why she knew that being in denial isn't exactly the smart thing for a person to do. And that's precisely why she, reluctantly, had to admit to herself that her relationship with Ron had become more than complicated over the summer. No, not complicated. A freaking hell. She would never have thought that one person could make her feel so much at once, and thus, make her life nearly impossible.

She didn't know what it was about him, but being alone with him, having been so simple in the past, had become increasingly difficult. Not all the time of course, but there were times when she felt raging mad around him. She would catch herself sitting there, on the verge of tears, feeling incredibly guilty for something and not being able to look into those eyes. She felt she had betrayed him in some way, and it took a long time for Hermione to figure out what it was.

Merlin knows, she found out the hard way. She understood it all when at some point she realized what exactly Ron could make her feel. She would suddenly get all kinds of feelings about him that made her blush to even think about. She would feel herself willing to send everything in her life flying straight to hell… just to be able to caress his cheek or to feel his touch on her body. And sometimes – even worse! – she would catch his gaze upon herself and be blasted with it, dark from sadness and something else she couldn't exactly define.

What are you doing to me, Ron Weasley, she thought sadly, before turning her attention to what he was actually saying.

-…and then I come up here and see you asleep.-Ron paused for a moment, then inquired.-Are you really that tired, Hermione? You shouldn't work that hard, you know. It's not healthy at all…

-Oh, it's easy for you to say, Ron!-she breathed out, not quite aware of what she was saying. The look on his face, a mix of hurt and anger, made her start explaining hastily. –No it's not…that's not what I meant…you know it's not…

-Do I, Hermione? Anymore? Do I really know what you mean anymore? – he replied in quiet anger, pushing himself away from the window. Hermione jumped from her seat and quickly approached him, gesturing and trying to explain herself:

-No, Ron, I'm sorry…I was just saying…that you can't understand what it's like for me…to feel I'm not doing enough…You..you're helping Harry, and you've made so much progress in Practical training…and look at me – how much have I done? What good might I possibly be of, come the Final Battle? D'you have any idea…

Ron simply gaped at her, at a loss for words. Hermione rubbed her forehead:

-Or maybe you're right, I just must be tired. I think I'll just…

-I never knew you felt that way, Hermione. That's ridiculous! – Ron blurted out, looking shocked. –You really think you're not doing enough, or not as much as me or Harry? That's freaking bullshit, how could you even think that? – Hermione winced at his cursing, but said nothing. The red-headed young man in front of her somehow made her want to listen, not argue, like with old Ron. He stared at her unbelievingly, then smirked oddly and turned to the window. This instantly made her suspicious.

-And what exactly do you find so funny, Ronald? – Hermione asked, fuming. The red-head simply shook his head before turning to her and throwing her a weird kind of grin.

-Hey, it's just unbelievable. Ever since I knew you, you were always so confident and sure of what you and the others are supposed to be doing. And now…you actually feel I've outdone you at something!

-Yeah well thanks for rubbing it in, you GIT, - she snapped suddenly, not thinking a second about what she was saying, as she started collecting her books jerkily. –I'm glad that me being in a right state is such a joy to you. Are all of my failures? – she barely had the time to register that she had crossed the line when Ron grabbed her wrist and turned her to face himself. Hermione saw that his face was striked with anger and hurt and…

-How can you SAY that? Do you have any idea what you just said? D'you really think I'm some bloody Malfoy? I'm your fucking best mate, Hermione! Or at least I was before…

-Before what, Ronald?  
-Before you decided to shove me the HELL out of your life! – he bellowed and abruptly let go of her, turned on his heels and stormed out of the library. On his way towards the exit he ran into a hysterically shushing Madam Pince, but didn't even stop. Hermione stood frozen, watching him leave, before leaning against the stone wall and letting angry tears run free down her cheeks.

_Love it? Hate it? Don't get it? Please REVIEW! Just don't be too cruel about it. I'm just getting warmed up. Working on the third chap already, will be more angst and swearing, we'll find out something unexpected about Harry and Ron's summer, and more development in the bittersweet romance department…..there is one LITTLE catch._

_You gotta review. Sorry, people, that's the only way to go. No reviews – no next revealing chappie! Hee hee, I'm a sadist. Oh well))))_


	3. What He Doesn't Know

_A/N_

_Well, maybe it's just me, but 2 reviews, not that much, don't ya think? I'll let it slide for now…but only cause I just happened to finish this chap in record time. I won't be so kind next time! Those who did review, I love you guys, thank you! Also, I've started naming chapters, check out the previous ones. Now tell me I'm not making an effort))))_

_OK, this one's kind of different…enter at your own risk…_

Ron continued to race down the long hallway, not caring about his direction. He ran into a couple of second-years and snarled at them for being in his way, and continued to march down the endless corridors, until he finally made a turn and found a dead-end. He stood there for a moment, out of breath, and then, feeling his anger rise once more, pounded a clenched fist into the wall.

He could sense another attack coming to the surface, for his eyes were starting to be clouded by the familiar red fog. His breathing was heavy, and he needed all his might to not let his anger get the better of him. Otherwise, he had a feeling he would hurt himself. Or someone else.

Shit, he thought madly, shit oh shit oh shit. No, stop, Ron, breathe. What the fuck is the matter with me? But all his remaining mildly coherent thoughts were being clouded by the loud sound in his head, undescribable and absolutely unnerving. He slowly slid down the wall, his eyes shut, and clenched his head, trying to make the fog of sounds and thoughts and anger go away. Ron felt as if he was being hung upside down by his feet, dangling in mid-air. The feeling was making him absolutely insane, the familiar fog in his eyes getting thicker and thicker…

It went as quickly as it came, and soon Ron lifted his head and found himself face-down on the floor, fists clenched, his hair damp from cold sweat. Bloody hell, he thought in a daze as he slowly lifted himself up. This wasn't like any of the previous fits of anger that he had had. Those went away relatively quickly, as soon as he found an object to let his rage out on. Thoughts of his attacks brought Ron back into the one area of his mind he feared to enter, the one area he avoided with all his willpower.

July 24th.

Those words, simple and plain, were like a curse to Ron's ears, a curse that made him want to do things he would never be capable of in a normal state. His body and mind reacted instantly, and usually his first impulse would be to go and to ANYTHING to make the memories of what had happened vanish or a least fade. Anything it would take – Dreamless sleep Potion, 20 laps around the Quidditch field or as much Firewhiskey as it took.

He had suspected for a while that the events of the past summer had had a much larger impact on him than he had initially figured. Ron groaned, as the dreaded memories began to press down on him, and the back of his mind was ready to start reliving it all…the horror and the pain and the blood – everything that was now and forever July 24th…Ron knew if he let himself think about everything that had happened to him and Harry that day, everything his scarred body and soul now reminded him of, everything he read in his best mate's eyes, he would end up in the right state for the psychiatric ward in St. Mungo's.

Hermione knew about it. When she found out that he and Harry had been kidnapped by Death-Eaters, she was on the verge of getting hysterical, but, the amazingly strong person that she was, she merely did everything to help her friends. She was, as always, there, at the right time, caring and needed, but, Ron admitted sadly, there was much she didn't know. About what had happened to her best mates that day. She knew, in general, but not everything.

One thing was for sure - Ron would never let her find out. Never, as long as he could keep it from her. She couldn't find out. It would be the end of everything. He would lose her forever, and as far as he was concerned, that would end his sanity, his mental peace, his life, for that matter. She would NEVER know.

Ron wrenched his thoughts away from the dreaded topic and returned to his previous problem.

What had caused him to lose his grip this time? It couldn't have been Hermione, could it? It's not as if fighting was something new for them, quite frankly, that's all they really did, back when they were….oh no.

"Back when they were"? What, just friends? What the HELL is the matter with you! You bloody git, do you even REALIZE what you're thinking? Since when is Hermione not your friend anymore?

The answer came on its own.

"Since you decided to shove me the hell out of your life."

You sodding idiot, Ron thought angrily, as the realization of what he had said to Hermione dawned down on him. You let a stupid argument turn into all THAT? You ACTUALLY said that to her?

Ron moaned into his hands. NOW he indeed had a problem on his hands. Because Hermione wasn't stupid. And if she had interpreted his words the way he really meant them…well, he was, to put it bluntly, dead. Dead, and that's all there is for ya.

The red-head was instantly on his feet. He HAD to find Hermione, straighten this whole matter out, beg for forgiveness, whatever the hell he had to do to make it all right. He couldn't even remember why they started arguing in the first place, he only knew that this whole ordeal was extremely fucked up to begin with.

He started racing down the endless, oddly abandoned corridor. His thoughts were focused on Hermione, as he tried to think of what he was going to say to her. He almost came up with a good line while rounding a corner, when he was suddenly abruptly stopped by someone running into him at full speed and nearly knocking him over. Ron instinctively reached for the wall to keep up his balance, when he realized the person he collided with was Hermione.

She looked slightly off, when she backed away hastily, then stood firmly in her place, staring at his chest stubbornly and making a point of not looking him in the eye. Ron was completely thrown off track by this encounter and was at a loss for words. He searched his mind frantically, thinking of what he wanted to say to Hermione. He opened his mouth, thinking it would make the task easier, but at that precise moment her head lifted, and he saw that her eyes shone with tears. She obviously had been crying. Her hands were clenched together, and she stood there, before him, so small and helpless, that Ron mentally kicked and slapped himself for making her feel the way she was feeling. He had to make it better – somehow, anyhow.

-Hermione…

That was all he came up with, but he never got a chance to say anything else, because she interrupted him, her voice sounding a bit hoarse from crying.

-Ron, I…it's just…look I'm SO sorry I said those horrible things to you! I don't really think you're a git, you have to understand that, tell me you understand that! Ron, I'm sick of this, I'm sick of us not having time for each other, and fighting when we do! I hate it that you think I'm shoving you out, it kills me to hear that, I just…

He cut her off, closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her cautiously. She gave a ragged sigh of relief, and he felt her breath hot against his ear. Something inside of him tightened strangely, and he broke the embrace, smiling down on her, despite the way his body reacted to her impact almost painfully.

-Hermione, I was about to ask YOU to forgive me. I really have been a prat, you know, saying you've shoved me out. That's just, really, not what I meant at all. You'll never stop being my best friend, I swear, Hermione, that's not ever changing.

Her deep, chocolate-brown eyes were shining up at him as she smiled, and Ron felt as if something warm had just been poured inside of him, because all of a sudden he felt happier than he had felt in a long, long time. He had wanted this for what it seemed like forever – for her to look at HIM, with those eyes he loved so much, and smile at him, because HE made her happy in some way. At that moment it just seemed so natural for him to feel extremely gentle and caring towards her, he didn't want to analyze what it meant for both of them.

At that moment she felt happier than she had felt in a really long time. For a moment it seemed as if nothing had ever changed between them, that there was no war, and no July 24th, there was just Ron, her friend, her best friend, the boy she had known for so many years, with whom she had shared tears and laughter. They had all grown up together – she, and Ron, and Harry, and that meant more to her than whatever obstacle aimed at tearing them apart. She studied his features, and noticed once again – he was all a man now. She had watched him change from awkward lanky boy with strangely long lims, to tall handsome young man with slightly boyish features. She loved that in Ron, the way boy and adult combined within him, the way his broad-shouldered frame clashed with the famous smirk on his freckled face. Although, Hermione noted sadly, it was much less likely to see the boy in him the past few months. Ever since that horrible summer day…what she would give to turn back time…

-Hey, d'you want to, I dunno, talk? – he said suddenly, breaking the silence between them. – We just really don't do that anymore and…I really miss it, you know.

-Of course, - she said softly. They took a few steps towards the nearest classroom door and walked inside. Hermione noticed the sky outside was quite dark, although that didn't faze her very much – autumn days were short. The wind howled viciously, tearing at the tree branches, and she listened to the raindrops beating at the window. Ron sat on the teacher's desk and loosened his tie uncomfortably. Hermione turned her head, and soon found herself studying him, almost cherishingly. Well, she didn't get to see him a lot, did she, it was perfectly natural, this urge to look at him, to see how he's changed…nothing wrong with that, is there?

-Heck, I hate this thing. Back in the old days we were at least allowed to loosen it once in a while. When we weren't at lessons, nobody gave a dead hippogriff if we weren't wearing our ties. Now it's just impossible. Uniform and all that. Like if we don't have our tie straight, come the Final Battle, it'll be the end of the Wizarding Army. Every time I loosen this hang-yourself piece of fabric, I'm afraid of running into Heathway or something, like Harry and I just did…

-You and Harry?

-Well, uh, yeah, we were going to find you, but then we ran into the Coronel, and he dragged Harry away.

Hermione frowned.

-What on earth did he want from him?

-Dunno, I figured there's always something about Harry…always needed by somebody…but hey, you knew that, right?

An awkward silence fell between them, as Ron fiddled with his wand, not looking at her. The way he sat there, something clearly on his mind, reminded her of old Ron, when there was something very important he wanted to say but felt nervous or shy about it. Hermione studied his jerky movements, and felt odd all of a sudden.

-How's Harry doing? – she asked quietly. She saw him stiffen slightly, then run a hand through his short hair, shrugging.

-Holding up, I s'pose. Although he's been in a right state..ever since..you know.

-Yeah.

-It's been tough…on both of us, I guess…He's lucky to have you though, - he finished gruffly.

She lifted her gaze cautiously to meet his, serious, dark and full of grief. A sharp pain seared through her soul when her eyes met his blue ones, Ron's eyes, that searched for so many answers to so many questions…and she found herself weakening under this heavy, cherishing glance.

-I don't know, Ron…sometimes..I feel like I'm just a burden on him…

The words came out of her mouth, and she was surprised to realize she had just spoken her hidden thoughts. This was something she rarely admitted thinking even to herself. Ron had a mixed look on his face, as he shifted awkwardly, got up from the desk and stood to look out the window. She didn't take her eyes off him, waiting for him to answer; it seemed every fiber of her being was sensing such a powerful connection with him, it was hard for her to breathe. Hermione had never felt this way before: being around Ron had been a bit awkward for some time now, but it had never been like this. There had never been the burning ball inside, the longing sensation way in the pit of her stomach…

Suddenly it dawned on her that this was just simply WRONG. Because the next step of this insanity was all too clear, and in the next second she panicked. No no no, this cannot be happening, something's definetely out of place here. Pull yourself together, Hermione! This is Ron we're talking about, remember? Your best friend, Harry's best mate! Harry. Yes.

-Everything really does seem to always come down to Harry, huh? – Ron's voice sounded almost eerie, echoing in the empty classroom, as he turned his head ever so slightly. Hermione frowned for a moment, trying to analyze what Ron had just said.

Harry. She felt herself smiling sadly, as awkward thoughts, not new, but strange all the same, started whirling in her mind. It was all about Harry. For both of them. That's the way it always had been, that's the way it always will be.

It was strange, Ron mused, their almost unbelievable loyalty to this person, to his cause and everything he stood for. They would give up everything for him – otherwise, there was no point in anything they were doing. Both had turned their lives around to help him fight, help him defeat Voldemort. When you think about it, that's all they could do, really – put up an endless fight against evil by Harry's side, ready to give up their lives at any moment. And, quite frankly, if that was all Ron was destined to do, help Harry in defeating Voldemort…let that bloody well be. Most people could never show that much for themselves. So it all just came down to Harry. Hell, he was the reason for Hermione and himself being friends in the first place. He was the reason they had overcome so many obstacles and, in the process, evolved into being who they were now.

If it weren't for him, there wouldn't have been any of the memories their minds now held dear. If it weren't for him, they wouldn't have the absolutely clear understanding of what they had to do with their lives.

If Ron didn't have Harry, he would never have confronted his secret fears, learned to brace his bloody jealousy; for him, Harry was the synonym to true friendship, the kind a person has only once in a lifetime.

But bloody hell, there was one nagging thought. If it weren't for Harry, he wouldn't be standing here, two feet apart from the one woman who completed him and was everything he ever wanted in another human being; if it weren't for Harry, he would take her hands in his and tell her everything he had already told her in his countless dreams; if it weren't for Harry, he would close the distance between them, there and then, pull her against himself and probably snog her senseless. Shit, he swore under his breath. He could tell that she had noticed, and there was something strange about the expression that appeared on her face.

-Ron, I'm tired of this, - she suddenly said in an oddly clear voice. He turned to her, frowning slightly:

-Oh, I'm sorry, Hermione, we should head back probably, you must be wiped…

-That's NOT what I meant.

Ron's head pounded as he stared into her eyes, their expression oddly determined. She looked as if she was about to spill out her thoughts no matter what, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

-I'm tired of these games we play. Why are we being so strange to each other? Things have never been this awkward. I just don't understand why we have to change anything in our friendship. There's no reason for things to change…

-Well, in case you haven't noticed, things HAVE changed. A lot. Kinda impossible to ignore those changes, you know, - Ron answered in a tired voice, burying his face in his hands. He didn't want the conversation to go down that road, he didn't want to start giving some sort of bloody explanations to why things had changed between them.

-D'you mean Harry and I? Is this what it's all about? Well, in that case it's just…

-Look, Hermione, trust me, you do NOT want to go there. It's late. I think we should probably…

-No.

He stopped, focusing his gaze on her.

-We are going to get everything out of the way, Ronald, whatever things that are ruining us as friends. Can't you understand that our friendship means the world to me?

-Hermione…-he groaned. Please don't start this, you won't like the way we finish. I don't think I can pretend everything is all right, not today, please don't do this.

- Ron, this is a matter of saving our friendship, can't you see? We can't go on like this, it's like somethings come berween us, and we need to get whatever it is out of the way…

-Hermione!...- he said more harshly, turning to the window. Don't push me…

-No, Ron! – she said, raising her voice. –I just want us to get this all out of the way…

-FINE THEN! – he bellowed, suddenly turning to face her, mere inches dividing them. From that moment it was like his mind stopped working properly, and he wasn't quite aware of what he was doing, and at the same time in the perfect state of mind. No consequences existed anymore.

He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer than she had ever been, looking straight into her shocked eyes. Her palms met his chest, but she didn't push him away. He spoke, tracing light circles on her cheek, and felt her skin growing hotter under his touch. Ron suddenly felt an odd power over her, and it inebriated him.

-You want to get this out of the way? Fine, here's what it all comes down to. I can't bear seeing you and Harry together, day after day, you stroking his hair or holding his hand. I am silent, though. As always. Because he needs you, Hermione, and I know that, believe me, I do. But that doesn't stop me from wanting you either.

He watched her eyes widen for a second, pulled her even closer, and, miraculously, felt her hands slide up to rest on his neck. Unaware of what he was doing, he leaned down and slowly traced his lips across her forehead, leaving a burning trail behind. His voice was low as he spoke, his face inches away from hers. The feel of her touch made him say things he thought she would never hear, it was as if he was encouraged by the fact that she deliberately didn't push him away.

-It's always been you, Hermione. And there hasn't been a fucking day since summer that I didn't want to hold you like this and call you mine and mine only.

Her fingers were now stroking the skin of his neck, and not only talking, but simply thinking straight was becoming a problem for him. He couldn't understand the way she was acting. What the hell was she doing?..

-But I know that's not ever going to happen. Because if there's one thing I wouldn't want is for Harry to be miserable.

In the next second he felt her stand on her tiptoes. Ron's baffled mind was refusing to analyze the gesture, when she turned her head and planted a soft kiss just above the collar of his shirt. For a moment he thought he died; this was simply too much for him to handle. In a moment he heard her speak:

-Would you want to see ME miserable?

Her voice was slightly hoarse, and it affected him almost painfully. He couldn't understand what was going on in that head of hers or what was happening to them; all this – holding her close like this, feeling her touch – it all seemed so perfect, as if being in each other's arms had been their fate all along…and in the same time it was all so horrendously wrong…he wasn't supposed to be touching her…hell, she was definetely NOT supposed to be liking it…

-Of course I don't want that…I'll rather die than see you unhappy, - he whispered sadly, watching her expression.

-Well I am Ron. I have been miserable ever since that horrible day. Don't you see it? How can you not?

She was speaking softly, so close to him he could feel her breath on his neck. Merlin, this is too much…

-D'you know what it's like, to want to do everything to help someone you care about, to be willing to give yourself up for them, but be utterly miserable with them? Well that's how it's been for me. It's like I was being split up…into so many pieces…and I just…I just need something to make me whole again…but the one thing that can…is out of bounds…

Was she really saying this? Was it that she really wanted to be with him all along? The thought just never occurred to him before…Here she was, with him, practically saying that he meant to her just as much as she did for him…it was WRONG…bloody wretched wrong…but despite that, Ron knew that this was the border for him. All it would take for him right now was one word from her…and that would be it. It was all too unbearable…

-What he doesn't know, won't hurt him. But it would heal me. Both of us, Ron.

Yes. This was extremely fucked up. But at that moment, he really didn't give shit anymore, and his mind zoned out completely when, after what seemed like centuries, he was crushing his lips hungrily down on hers and feeling her answer his kiss willingly, moaning softly into his mouth.

This was how it all was supposed to be all along. This was right. No other way about it.

_And my sadistic nature comes to the surface. I'm leaving you with a cliffhanger, so there)))) Review, if you know what's good for ya))))_


	4. Feelings of Guilt

_A/N Well, I can just say one thing – as long as I have even ONE reader like _CamJ59,_who so devoted to this story, I'll keep on writing! ))) One review is sooooo not enough, but when it's a review like the one I got for the previous chapter…..))))) Anyhoo, I will change the summary, who knows, maybe THEN more people'll start reading. Also, in answer to the request of my FAVORITE reader, I've included some Harry POV in this chap, just to make things a bit clearer. And sorry it took a while to update. I'm really starting to hate archaeology…_

_The plot thickens…_

It was as if the world around her was spinning towards its end, as Hermione heard the words tumble out of her mouth:

-What he doesn't know, won't hurt him. But it would heal me. Both of us, Ron.

She couldn't believe she had just said that, and in the same time it was the most natural thing in the world. Two voices were screaming at her inside her head: one of caution and responsibility, telling her to instantly back away, and another, getting stronger with every second, that of all the bottled-up feelings of care and want and love for the person that was standing in front of her. She stopped to muse the word "love" that came to mind all by itself when she thought of Ron. Was it that she really loved him? She lifted her head to catch his glance, and saw that it had darkened, it was almost as if his soul reflected in his eyes. And then she understood that it was true. She loved this shy, wacky, low-self-esteemed adorable red-headed wonder, and for some reason admitting it to herself felt like the best thing in the world…When she felt Ron's lips on her own, the consequences and all previous thoughts slipped conveniently out of her head, giving way to the overwhelming feelings inside her. Hermione felt herself answer him willingly, moaning as he nibbled on her bottom lip and his fingers traced circles on the small of her back. The kiss instantly turned from slightly shy and gentle to hungry and passionate. This was completely surreal, everything he made her feel and what he himself was experiencing at that moment.They were both pouring everything into the kiss, all the years of secret longing and wanting to feel each other this close, its power was almost frightening.. Ron broke away from the kiss only to lean down to her neck and trail his lips down to start gently sucking at her pulse-point. Her heart was beating hard against her chest, and Hermione was sure he could probably sense it, close as they were to each other. He was taunting and teasing her, attacking the most sensitive parts of her neck with his lips and tongue. Where he had learned to do that, she couldn't even imagine – not that it mattered at that moment…He lifted his head momentarily, and that gave her a chance to answer his caresses. She found herself trailing soft kisses along his ear-lobe, on the gentle spot underneath his ear, and heard his ragged intake of breath.

-You do know you're driving me mad here, don't you? – he whispered hoarsely, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were fogged over, and that gaze of longing, love and want was what undid her completely. She smiled up at him and reached to run her hand through his red hair, looking him straight in the eye, then stood to whisper in his ear, her lips touching it slightly:

-I could say the same thing to you.

Hermione heard him sigh gently against the bare skin of her neck. In a moment she felt him touch her hair, stroking it in a way she thought he never could:

-How come you never wear it down anymore? – Ron asked in a strangely sad sort of voice.

-It's against the uniform code. I have to put it back – in a knot or…

She felt him fumble with her hairclip:

-Can I let it down for you?

He didn't give her a chance to answer and took the clip out, allowing her chestnut locks to fall on her shoulders. Hermione felt strange under his gaze as he did this and, moving stray strands away from her face, studied her features, his glance cherishing and intoxicating.

-You're beautiful, Hermione, you really are, - Ron said in a low, slightly hoarse, voice. She was slightly stunned with this, not having expected him to be so outward about it. In the next seconds he captured her lips with his own again, and this time the kiss was almost desperate; it felt as if he was trying to tell her everything he felt for her only with his touch. Hermione felt his hold on her strengthen, as if he was afraid something would tear them apart at that very moment…Her hands snaked around his waist to pull him closer, and in a moment he deepened the kiss, filling the moment with a whole new, almost scary, meaning, as their tongues touched and intertwined, as his hands touched her body in a way that made her once again feel the heated sense of longing inside…

It ended as abruptly as it started, when he suddenly pulled away:

-No, Hermione, we have to stop.

Her brain was having difficulty processing his words as she stared up at him, watching him breathe heavily, his chest rising.

-What is it? I don't…

-We're NOT supposed to be doing this!

He couldn't BELIEVE he had actually forced himself to say those words. Maybe it was because at that moment he realized that things had a chance of going much, MUCH further than they already had, and if she wasn't regretting it yet, she would if things did go further. They both would, probably. His heart was beating a tattoo against his chest, as his whole body hummed with a strange, unknown sort of energy. Ron tried not to look at her as carefully as he wanted, because then his eyes would be drawn to her swollen red lips or mischievously twinkling eyes, and then he wouldn't be able to stop himself once more. He stepped away slightly, his hands remaining on her waist as he tried to make his wild heartbeat slower and calm his rushing blood.

-We…what the hell are we doing, Hermione? – he breathed out, leaning his forehead against hers and slightly surprised she didn't even flinch at his swearing. He could feel her stiffen for a moment, and then relax back into his arms, but not in the same way she had just a few brief minutes ago.

-I don't know, - her voice rang in the suddenly still silence of the room. It was clear and filled with something he could only identify as deeply buried sadness.-This is not how it should've happened…

Her words hit him like a slap in the face, as it dawned on him what she was saying:

-You regret it. – It came out as a statement, not a question, as he backed away entirely, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving to stare out into the dark. He could feel bitter tears building up somewhere deep inside, so deep he knew they would remain unshed. It was all too good to be true, anyway, she was bound to realize being with him at all was all just a huge mistake, wasn't it…His trail of thought was interrupted by a pair of hands snaking around his waist, and he felt Hermione's breath on his back, through the fabric of his uniform. Ron felt his muscles tighten, as his body reacted instantly to her touch.

-Don't say that, Ron. That's not what I meant at all…

-Do you love him?-he demanded suddenly, speaking the question that had been keeping him restless for he couldn't remember how long. He felt her stiffen and slowly back away. Just the answer to my question, he thought bitterly. Now I'll just have to drown myself, I guess, he continued to muse darkly, when he suddenly heard a quiet sob. He turned around and saw Hermione perched up on a desk, her face turned away from him as little sniffs escaped her chest and her shoulders shook slightly. This was a sight he could never take in calmly; seeing Hermione cry was one of the things that made him go completely mad and either try to kill whoever had hurt her, or do his clumsy best to make her stop. It was no wonder he found himself instantly in front of her, only one thought in his head – he had made her cry, he was a bastard, he had to do anything to make it better. He took her hands in his and sat on the floor in front of her, rambling and trying to think of something right to say…But it was hopeless – for a few minutes she was still and silent and only tears rolled occasionally from underneath her eyelashes, before she suddenly lifted her head to meet his eyes, and he saw that her gaze was stone hard and determined, but pleading at the same time:

-I'm trapped, Ron.

Her words dumbstruck him – this was definetely not what he had expected her to say.

-I'm living a lie. I realize it right now, clearer than before, but…but…

-Do you love him? – he carefully asked once more, softly and gently this time, yet determined to get an answer to his haunting question. Her eyes lowered sadly, but in a second she spoke, her voice confident as ever:

-He needs me.

She looked into his eyes once more, and he searched them frantically for something, anything, that would tell him what he desperetaly wanted to hear from her. He squeezed Hermione's hands slightly and shut his eyes for a few seconds, trying to get his brain into focus once more. This is what he thought about earlier that day. Harry needs her. He didn't have the right to deprive him of that happiness. He had to go through with this. For Harry. Or he would never be able to live with himself. He had NO BLOODY RIGHT…

-He needs you, - he said, echoing her voice, and felt her hands tremble in his. Ron got up to his feet and headed for the door. He had to get out of here, get the hell out of here, go up to his room and…he didn't really know what he would do there. Get drunk, perhaps, and try to forget everything that had happened tonight. Yeah, that's just the way to go, he thought sarcastically. As if any amount of Firewhiskey was ever going to wipe away the feeling of Hermione's lips on his own, or the memory of the little sound she made with her throat when their tongues first touched, from his mind…Hell, there was another merry thing to look forward to – facing Harry. Shit. He had no idea how he was going to accomplish that.

Ron turned to find Hermione still perched on the desk:

-C'mon, we have to go, Hermione.

She stared at him, her expression undefinable. In a moment she started speaking hastily:

-Ron, I just wanted to…

-I won't say anything about this, Merlin, Hermione! I understand. This never happened.

The hell it didn't.

-No! It's not about that…

-What, then?

She approached him, as though deciding whether or not to speak her mind.

-I don't regret doing this, you know.

-Don't DO this! – he snapped suddenly, not controlling himself any longer. The anger and hurt were about to get the better of him, and the last thing he wanted to do was lash out on Hermione.

-It's just…Don't make it hurt more than it already does. I know…all this…can't change anything between us. Don't make me hope that it actually could. Make a clean break.

She stared at him for a few moments, before suddenly leaning in to give him a quick hug and bursting out of the classroom. Ron thought he heard a little sob escape her lips, and immediately felt like trash. He groaned and slid down the wall, completely strenghthless. That's when the whole meaning of what had just happened came to him in a different light.

He just kissed his best mate's woman. No, he just snogged his best mate's woman, and touched his best mate's woman, and loved every second of it. And he had to go, and face his best mate, and pretend nothing happened, and pretend he didn't want to repeat it all every time he saw this woman walk by. Shit.

Ron Weasley was definetely getting drunk tonight.

He walked down the corridor, slightly overwhelmed by the information that had just been dumped on him. It was assumed he had gotted used to it, each year being a handful and some of surprises, confessions and unfolded mysteries. Everybody thought, naturally, that there was no way of dumbstriking Harry Potter – not anymore, anyway. Not when his name always appeared alongside the words "murder", "revelation" or "Voldemort". It seemed only Harry himself had never gotten entirely used to this. Not as if anybody cared, though.

His walk was slightly off, as he half-wandered down the abandoned corridor towards his Division's Common Room. After the trip to Heathway's office and the "chat" with General Mayers he felt as if his head was about to explode. The ever-present Horcrux issue had been raised once more and, of course, there wasn't much encouraging news…

The pieces of Voldemort's soul were hidden extremely well. Surprise, surprise. And every time Harry came across a possible hiding-place, found a clue, anything to lead him to a suggested Horcrux, it would turn out to be a false alarm. It was annoying, frustrating and depressing, to say the least, if considered that the fate of the free wizarding world was at stake.

The whole General Mayers thing was another issue.

He and Heathway were secret members of the Order. After Dumbledore's death, the relations between the members of the Order and the Ministry had gotten ill as ever, due to the Ministry's continuing efforts to take power in its hands only. The officials continued to see the Order as sort of a grown-up version of Dumbledore's Army – an organization of extremely skilled wizards, extremely influencial… and capable of trying to seize power at any moment. Now that last part, in Harry's point of view, was nothing but a load of bullshit…not as if Harry had any say, regarding the matter.

Taking the present situation into consideration, Heathway and Mayers were constantly suspected of treason by the Wizarding Army officials, and it was only their reputation as highly professional Officers that kept them in the Academy. They were Harry's only way to contact or consult the Order, and he understood they were taking an extreme risk for his sake.

And people were ALWAYS risking something for him, weren't they, he thought darkly, as he entered the Common Room and scanned it for Ron. He was nowhere to be found, and Harry quickly retreated to the corner of the room, landed himself in a chair and let his thoughts slowly take over him.

"Oh, here I go again..back on my old trail of thought…will I ever learn? Seems in my life it's best just not to analyze at all – just do what I'm supposed to do, and the analysis can just go to hell…Who are you kidding? You've tried, it didn't work. You always end up on questions like "What's the point" or "Isn't that how it always is". Yep. People are always risking something for me, giving something up for me. Their position, their health, their life…have any of them ever actually thought that maybe I'm not worth it? Everybody always assumes I'll live up to whatever plans they got for me. Well what if I don't? And why the fuck do I even HAVE to?

Okay, calm down, stop getting all hysterical. Where the bloody hell is Ron? Why's the bloke never around when you actually need him? Maybe found a new bird to snog. Well, at least one of us is getting some. Come to think of it…

Hermione. Now that's a thought to smile to.

She's really beautiful nowadays. Strange how only looking at her can make things better, huh? There's something warm and soft about her, who knows what it is, maybe the way her eyes are deep and chocolate, and the way her hair feels like velvet. All of her – she's home, the most stable thing in my life so far. SO much has happened, but Hermione…she was always…THERE.

Not judging, or criticizing, just there for me. I don't even properly remember falling for her – just woke up that morning and…realized it, I guess. It's natural. I must have always felt it, deep inside, but hadn't noticed. How could I have been so blind, well, beats me. And I always kinda thought there was something fishy about the way she and Ron were…quarreling all the time, then getting mighty jealous, when seeing the other with another person. The whole bloody Hogwarts was talking about it! But…well, there's nothing between them, that's for sure. How do I figure? Well…look at them two! They've both changed too drastically, and whatever THAT was, is in the past. With the rest of our childhood. We've all changed, haven't we. Hell, BEFORE July 24th I probably wouldn't have thought of her as someone other than a friend…

But she's with me now. Mine. It was her decision too, and she's happy with me. Because she knows how I feel about her, she senses it, I see that. I guess the summer has changed her too.

And, even though now she mostly acts as if our relationship is just a branch of our friendship…well, that will change. It's just hard for her, I understand that.

All I know, is that being with her is like being home. Have I ever truly had one? Yeah. Hogwarts. You know. The one that's been busted up and turned into the place for training well-skilled murderers, that Hogwarts. Another thing that bloody Voldemort took from me. Well fuck him.

I've found my home. Home feels like Hermione. I know that now. And who knows, maybe I'll never have a proper home, a place "where the heart is". My heart will always be with her.

She's my harbor, my nest, my calm, my peace. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing will EVER take her away from me. Now, after this summer, I won't let her ever leave. I…well, yeah, I love her. I love Hermione Granger. And she'll come to see that. She will.

Hermione…You think I don't see how you always try to act as if nothing has changed? As if we're the same? I know, change is a scary thing. But you and me…we've always been this way.

I know you feel the same way about me. Your eyes tell me as much. You love me, Hermione, and that is enough to make me the happiest man in the world. And even though your kisses are shy, and your touch is almost sisterly, I know just how much you care about me. I'll wait, Hermione. I will."

His thoughts had made him stare glass-eyed into the black hole of the dying fire. Head propped up on his hands, Harry was completely lost until he heard someone stumble into the Common Room. None other than Ron Weasley.

-Hey, mate, where the bloody hell have you been? I've been waiting for you for Merlin knows how long!

-Well..I..er…found Hermione, for one… and then…well, I had stuff to do, ya know.

Harry frowned a little, seeing his friend obviously in a shaken up state.

-You're not drunk, are you?

-Not yet I'm not, - Ron muttered, leaning against the stone wall.

-Are you okay, you seem a little…off?

-You know, that's the thing, I..eh…have this freaking stomachache. My guess is there was something nasty in the meatloaf at dinner. You don't mind if I just go to bed, do ya? You'll tell me what Heathway wanted from you tomorrow.

-No rush, - Harry agreed doubtingly, as he watched his best mate climb the stairs to their dorm.

Ron had certainly changed, too, Harry noted sadly. Sure, he was his best mate, loyal as ever, always there to help…but the mere thought of what he had to go through that summer made Harry sick.

It was all his fault…his fault…Harry groaned, burying his face in his arms. They were all targets because of him…Ron, Hermione, every single person who had died…He was the guilty one. And the guilt would never leave him, as long as he lived.

One person. To answer for all. For Cedric's death. For Sirius. For Dumbledore. For the broken homes and shattered lives. For the madness that happened in the summer and turned their already shaken world into complete chaos…

For the fact that Ron now could, just like Harry, see the Thestrals.

_Ok, now will you please have some consience and REVIEW! Ginny will appear for the first time in the next chap, look forward to it, people, part of the plot and one of the keys to the Summer Mystery. What DID happen? Read and Review! If you can help yourself, don't flame))))_


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